


Gatcha, Prime!

by Schiste



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, but they are all precious himbos, cliffjumper is a decepticon magnet and he's pissed, drabbles/shorts, never mind i give up listing all of them, no beta we die like optimus prime, ratchet just wants to have a normal day, so i will dutifully list them to the best i can, too many bots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schiste/pseuds/Schiste
Summary: drabbles about some humans that made a gacha game out of all the cybertronians on earth. ironically, their biggest fans are the bots themselves.chaotic times pursue.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 26
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gacha: Game that adopts a vending machine like mechanism. Uses in-game currency or real-life currency to get "pulls" or chances to get characters or items a user wants. My friends relate it to gambling. :,)
> 
> some un-beta-ed shorts/drabbles I make about this theme. may expand to other transformer media, but for now i stick to g1 because its great meme-age.

“Aw frag,” Cliffjumper sighed, helm slumped over his console as frustration oozed from his field. Hound looked over sympathetically, before moving his focus back to his own device. 

“Same here Cliff, did you get anything relatively good out of your recent pull?” Hound asked, surfing through his almost complete botanical collection, spark aching looking at the empty hole symbolizing the last one needed to get the achievement.

“Nope, just a bunch of normal and rare characters that I already have.” Cliffjumper bit out, tapping away at the machine, “I got one super rare, but I am gonna smelt ‘em”

The words super rare garnered the attention from several bots from around the rec room, “Super rare? Give it over here!” Gears exclaimed, grabbing the device out of Cliffjumper’s servoes. His expression went through a flurry of changes from interest, to disbelief and finally to excitement.

“What the frag? He’s got Megatron!”

Immediately, all the bots in the room rushed over in a symphony of clanging with “what” and “are you serious?” echoing each other. Seeing the actual screen themselves, they expressed their congratulations and excitement to the minibot. Some even held the console in envy, hoping that holding Cliffjumper’s device in their hands would make it theirs.

“There hasn’t been a single Megatron pull on the forums! Cliff, you’re the first one!” Bumblebee exclaimed over the gathering crowd, excited and oblivious to Cliffjumper’s dark expression.

The red mini-bot snatched his console back from the grabby hands of his fellow autobots, “Yeah, and I’m gonna keep it like that! I already got this slagger before and I already smelted him down once! I don’t need him!”

The excited faces around Cliffjumper immediately turned into fear and shock.

“Cliffjumper, NO!”

“Do you not understand what you just got? Megatron’s a slagger in reality, but he’s got awesome skill sets for team battle in game!!”

“Did I hear him say he got Megatron AGAIN?”

“And he SMELTED A SUPER RARE?” 

And suddenly, hands were all over him again, desperate to grab the console out of his unforgiving servos.

“LET GO! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU GUYS?? DID UNICRON POSSESS ALL OF YOU? I’M GETTIN’ RID OF IT, I REFUSE TO HAVE ANY DECEPTICON ON MY TEAMS!! I ALREADY GOT THOSE SLAGGING CASSETTES AND HIGH COMMAND BOTS, I JUST WANT OPTIMUS DAMN IT! I’M GONNA SMELT ALL THOSE DAMN ‘CONS!!” Cliffjumper yelled, startled at the crazy mass of desperate bots clawing at him for his console, “FRAG, LET GO!”

Bumblebee, finally getting the console himself, held it protectively to his chest, “Cliffjumper, getting high command bots Megatron is around 0.001% chance! And you got so many already! You’re the one getting possessed by Unicron by smelting them! Even though they are Decepticons, they are useful characters! We aren’t going to let you get rid of any more Decepticon characters!”

Cliffjumper looked crossed between murdering Bumblebee and straight up chasing him, but both are almost the same things in Cliffjumper’s case. 

“I have the freedom and right to do what I want on MY account, Bumblebee!” Cliffjumper pointed accusingly to the yellow minibot, slowly making his way over, “So give me my console back!” 

“If we’re going to quote on core foundations of democracy and freedom, then we’re going to have to object to your declaration as a council unless you retract your statement of smelting down all the Decepticon characters. We will return the device once you do so.” Mirage pointed out elegantly, servos on Bumblebee’s shoulder. His body close to defend the bot from the feral-looking Cliffjumper. All the other bots in the room sided with the SpecOps duo, (traitors!) and nodded in agreement with the tower bot.

“GUYS, HE’S GOT ALL THE DECEPTICONS UNLOCKED ON HIS ACCOUNT!! HOW IS HIS LUCK SO GOOD? MOST OF THESE ARE RARES AND SUPER RARES!!” Bumblebee shouted, scrolling through a plethora of bots with the purple Decepticon symbol. Screaming and shouting ensued.

“Apologies, it seems that your console and account is now in the joint ownership of us.” Mirage smiled, infuriating Cliffjumper almost to the point of crashing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rumble and frenzy like duking it out with their autobot counterparts in all forms.  
> unfortunately the TIC of the Decepticons notices everything. 
> 
> the gacha game system is based off getting characters to make teams of 5, which can allow users to fight players v players or go with the story line. 
> 
> ex. Summoner's War, Onmyoji, Brave Frontier, etc.  
> ^ best examples would be the first two

There was something amiss in the Nemesis. Of course, it wasn’t something easily noted by the other Decepticons in the base, but something glaringly obvious to Soundwave. 

It was getting quieter on the ship. 

Not completely quiet, though. Skywarp teleporting and getting into mischief was still a common occurrence, and the twin terrors were still off making troubles for everyone on board. But the sight of the top two troublesome cybertronians were… reducing. The advantage? Less time wasted on fixing the problem. However, the new problem was: what was occupying them to the point that their favorite daily activities were slowly being reduced?

In fact, Rumble and Frenzy have been awfully suspicious in their lack of activities the past few earth weeks… They haven’t shirked their duties, no, but they’ve been staying inside the Nemesis much longer than they usually did. He did not reach out on their bonds to see what they were doing, but he has confirmed they’ve been in the nooks and crannies of the ship, as if hiding. 

This recent cycle has gotten his curiosity peaked, and Soundwave decided _maybe_ it was time to intervene and see for himself what was happening. Finding his cassettes was of no issue, as he was led to a small closet in some obscure part of the base. Opening the door silently, he observed his cassettes. The two had their backs to the door (he will reprimand them for letting their guards down later), and in their servos was a console, displaying colorful bots fighting in what looked like an arena.

“Query, game of interest entertaining?”

Rumble and Frenzy shot up off their afts and swore colorfully. Upon turning around and realizing it was just Soundwave behind them, they relaxed.

“Don’t just walk up to us like that, boss bot!” Rumble grumbled before attempting to hide the console behind him.

“Rumble and Frenzy should not have left guard down.” The host bot countered before gesturing to him, “Query, game of interest, entertaining?”

Frenzy glanced down to the ongoing game and towards Rumble, before responding, “Oh, yeah… its nothing much boss! It some hobby we got recently. Is there anything you need?” 

Attempt at distracting him? How interesting.

“Query, what is this game?”

The cassettes looked relatively similar to humans sweating out of nervousness. 

“Uh, its like a video game where you can collect bots and -slag, how do we describe this?- uh, upgrade them and get them to fight in teams?” Rumble replied hesitantly, unsure what else to say to get Soundwave off their case.

“It’s like pit fights, but with teams!” Frenzy exclaimed, when the soundbox did not react outwardly to Rumble’s explanation.

“Command: Hand over the console.”

A wave of panic and embarrassment flooded Soundwave from the other end of their bonds, before getting quickly muffled out. Rumble passed over the device with uneasy looks shared between him and his twin. 

On the twins' screen appeared small cybertronians, where five lined up on one side and another set of five on the other, as though they were facing off. The blue and white bot in the middle of the front team looked uncannily familiar. Bringing the screen closer to his visor, he stared at it. The other four bots next to the middle one appeared to be smaller like cassette size, and again, looking quite familiar. 

Across the first row, the second team looked awfully similar to red boom box and cassette family Soundwave knew. Along the sides of the console’s screen, were pictures being spammed like a chat system, and the words "R3WINDTIME" was labelled in small font on the top. They appeared to be a miniaturized version of Autobot Jazz, his infamous audio horns and racing stripes almost an exact replica of the real thing. The little image had its fist up and lips pursed, with a chat box coming from his lips saying in English, “Hurry up, dude!”

Soundwave looked up to the two cassettes, who looked awfully nervous. 

“OK, OK! We confess! It’s a human game we downloaded based off like, us Decepticons and Autobots! You can collect bots and items and make teams to fight each other and stuff! Just, can you let us finish our battle with Rewind? We gotta show him we're the best cassette and host bot team ever!” Frenzy begged, running over to grabbing Soundwave’s leg, while Rumble went to the other to cling to it. Their visors beamed up on full power, shiny and looking utterly pitiful. Had it been any other Decepticons, Soundwave would have been apathetic, but the way they clung to his armor… Their small servos gripping his sharp corners…

“We just wanted to play this game so we could collect us, and you boss bot! Cuz, you’re the best Decepticon 'round here and we beat all those other ‘bots out there!”

He vented heavily. This was pulling at his spark strings far too much than he wanted. 

The glowing screen now had a mini Bumblebee waving, “Are you OK?” from Rewind.

“Rumble, Frenzy, finish game. Report details of this game afterwards.” 

Wide smiles bloomed on their faceplates, and they cheered as Soundwave handed the console back to them. Warmth flooded from their end of the bond to him pleasantly. How could he refuse them in such an innocent activity? He also has a reputation to maintain as the superior host bot, in both virtual reality or on the battlefield. 

“Thanks Boss! You’re the best!” 

“Now let’s show those slag suckers what we’re made of!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what if soundwave played league of legends, and his kids played minecraft and fortnite instead?
> 
> thinking_emoji


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings, just ratchet

The medibay was a place of uttermost concentration and silence. Lives were determined here, and was also a sanctuary for those who survived and needed an escape from the world. 

Bluestreak, however found it to be the opposite, and there were more than enough occasions where we woken up from recharge on one of the berths screaming in fear before calming down under Ratchet’s and First Aid’s tender mercies.

So when Bluestreak shrieked upon waking up from recharge, Ratchet and First Aid immediately rushed over trying to calm him down from whatever bad recharge cycles plaguing him this time.

“Bluestreak, can you hear me? Aid, what’s his status?” Ratchet fretted, trying to stop the mech from launching off the berth.

“All his systems are fine! I don’t understand what’s happening! His cortex isn’t showing signs of his usual recharge terrors!”

Optics dimmed and dull, Bluestreak faced Ratchet and hoarsely asked, “What cycle is it?”

It was normal question usually asked by the Praxian when he went through these times. “It’s been two earth-cycles since the last battle with the decepticons. How are you feeling?”

The grey bot nodded slowly, before suddenly his field expanded and spiked, optics wide open. He let a soft moan and flopped back onto the berth with a noisy clang. His servos running over his faceplates and he cried softly, mumbling gibberish to himself. Alarmed by the sudden flux of emotions, and unable to identify what the poor bot was saying, Ratchet called to his student for help.

“First Aid! What is he trying to say?”

The protectobot tentatively walked over to Ratchet’s side of the berth, and leaned over to listen to Bluestreak’s pitiful ramblings. His visor dimmed, focused on the patient beneath him. His field going through several states of confusion, and finally peaking in surprise/embarrassment/sympathy all at once.

“Well?” 

First Aid turned to his mentor, teeking a bit of embarrassment in his field while avoiding to look Ratchet directly in the optics. 

“He said…” The red and white bot started before muttering off the rest of his sentence looking over to Bluestreak who appeared to be trying to get up from the berth.

“Aid, you need to tell me what is the etiology of his distress, now!”

“It’s fine, Ratchet! I’m alright now… It’s not a big deal!” The praxian pleaded, seemingly looking better and a lot more suspicious than he did several seconds ago. The two young bots shared a quick look before pretending nothing happened.

“Spill it, Aid, or I’ll have both of you washing the walls of the Ark for the next decacycle.”

Two EM fields spiked in embarrassment in the room.

“Um, according to his words, he’s… uh… depressed…”

The two were not subtle at all as they kept leaning to each other for support. There was definitely some silent comm conversations going on without him in it.

“And?”

“anddissapointedthathemissedtherecruitingeventonthegameandnowhecan’tgetProwlandSmokescreenonhisteam!” First Aid squeaked, his audio processors going higher and higher as he went. The bot on the looked like he wanted to crawl back into the Allspark and wished he was never created.

Ratchet merely shuttered his optics. “Can you repeat that slower?”

“He… Is depressed and disappointed that he missed the recruiting event on the game and now he can’t get Prowl and Smokescreen on his team…”

All three bots stood there awkwardly, as if time stopped but their processors didn’t. Ratchet’s faceplates did not move an inch.

“So… You’re telling me…” The medic begun slowly, “that the reason why Bluestreak started emotionally breaking down… And his first thoughts on his processor upon waking up from his injuries… was BECAUSE OF SOME FORM OF SLAGGING ENTERTAINMENT?! AND YOU HAD THE AUDACITY TO FEEL SYMPATHY?! WHERE ARE YOU GOING COME BACK HERE FIRST AID AND LET ME GIVE YOU A PIECE OF YOUR MIND!”

First Aid inched his way across to the other side of the room. 

“IT SEEMS LIKE I HAVEN’T KEPT YOU BUSY ENOUGH, HM? YOU’RE NOT A BITLIT ANYMORE TO BE PLAYING GAMES LIKE THIS! WE DON’T FIX UP YOU BOTS JUST FOR YOU TO PLAY GAMES!!!!! AND YOU!”

Ratchet whipped his helm back to Bluestreak, who was feebly trying to escape the medibay while the doc bot was too busy scolding his mentee, “I’m not done with you yet.” The bot narrowed his eyes before threateningly pointing his infamous wrench at the poor Praxian. He turned his attention to his escaping student, leaving Bluestreak along to simmer in his sadness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> our cool cat has arrived

"I think, we're going to need a strategy keeping this as concealed as we possibly can, thanks to the new situation we have." Hound started, shifting his body in front of the poor red and gray praxian to shield him from the dirty looks he was getting. The small gathering was hastily assembled in one of the lesser used rooms.

“Maybe we could create a system where bots who aren’t given duty outside the base could help those who are? Then we don’t need to worry about missin’ events or something.” Trailbreaker commented, “But are we even goin’ to be able to continue playing? Pretty sure high command already heard about the issue. Ratchet was pretty loud about it.”

“That’s a great question Trailbreaker, maybe you should ask that question to the right bot.” An upside-down blue visor hovered ominously over him, and fearful stares from the rest of the crew literally going over bot’s head. 

The familiar two toned bot silently fell to the floor on his pedes, and leaned over the poor unaware autobot. His face right next to Trailbreaker's, causing the rest of the group to rear back. All the transformers in the room mentally pressed F for respects. “Thanks, I was just thinking... What if we- JAZZSJHDIS!” The dark autobot screeched, audios filled with static as he came to realize who was just behind him. 

“That’s me, buddy ol’ pal! It’s everyone’s favorite mech here in metal!” He cheered, a flash of white passed over his visor from mischief while he slung an arm around the poor hyperventilating (if robots could) bot. “So mind if you could let me on this?” 

Awkward silence. Nobody wanted to get in the spotlight when it came to Jazz, especially when his visor landed on your own optics. It was like this weird, horrible crawling sensation, like Primus or Unicron sucking out your spark, body, and mind with just a glance into that vivid blue visor of death. Some bots prefer outright crashing Error 404 Earth's primitive computer style instead of getting confronted bt Jazz in the interrogation room (or any room)! Jazz vented in disappointment from the lack of response, shoulders slumping, and let go of his hostage. Trailbreaker speedily made his way to the other end of the circle, relieved he survived.

“C’mon guys, why y’all looking at me like I’m some sparkeater? Cough it up! I wanna be let in this whoooole secret cool kids club!” He drawled casually. Wiggling his servos, gesturing the bots to come closer, he almost looked as non-threatening as a cyberpanther trapping its prey.

_Frag! It just had to be Jazz that popped in here!_

_We’re so slagged._

_Why couldn’t it have been Prowl? Or Ironhide?_

_Where’s Bumblebee and Mirage? Can someone comm them to get over here?_

_They’re taking their breaks right now, I think. I sent a ping to Mirage earlier._

All the bots flinched when Jazz jammed their comms, their only source of comfort besides physically supporting each other gone.

“Oh, and you are ALL comm-in' each other secretly when I’m here?! That’s like, so rude.” Jazz cried dramatically, one hand over his bumper and the other palm faced up on his helm, a perfect copy of female humans in those soap operas if it wasn’t for the smirk edging on his lips. “You can’t possibly imagine the pain I feel in my spark right now!” 

“But If you don’t want to talk, I’ll be happy to do it for ya. Baby Blue, pass me your drink? Thanks love,” blowing a kiss to poor Bluestreak (he just wants a break god damn it) before taking a sip, “So, I heard some hot pipin' tea from Ratchet the other cycle…”

___

“Do you think high command knows about the game?” Bumblebee started, putting his console down and looked up to Mirage. As SpecOps, it was their duties to pay close attention to their foes and friends. The game was a nice distraction, and although it was questionable on how detailed it was in plot and characters, it was becoming what Ratchet said “addicting.” But most bots made fun of Ratchet’s immensely serious rant to First Aid and Bluestreak about how the game was eating their processors. The whole rant was recorded, and was now going around their internal forums. 

“I’m fairly confident Jazz has noticed this development. Its been several months already since the game came out, and many bots weren’t particularly quiet about it.” Mirage commented, as he took a sip of energon from his ration. A few breems ago Sunstreaker was proudly boasting how he obtained five fully upgraded duplicates of himself, and proceeded to admire his “amazing paint and figure” in the game and in reality. 

Bumblebee snickered, “Imagine all this time Jazz was playing the game as well? 

“Oh imagine if he did, that would be a sight to see… Oh?” a small sign of surprise flashed on the blue spy’s face, catching Bumblebee’s attention.

“What’s up?”

“Some bot is requesting assistance from -I directly quote- the claws of Jazz.” Mirage scoffed, lips twitching up and optics lowering in some resemblance to a smile. "Its funny that they think we could distract Jazz from them.

“Well, we're the ones who know him best. But most importantly... You look pleased, was the message from Hound?” Bumblebee teased as he subspaced his console and prepared to transform.

“Mmm… Perhaps.” The tower elite turned his body, and transformed setting off before Bumblebee, “Hopefully the crew hasn’t spilled all the details yet.” 

“Bet Jazz would have already destroyed them when we get there!”

“He’ll definitely draw it out longer than he needs to. I don’t need to bet credits to know that.”

“We’ll find out when we get there, Mirage!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'll keep this 0 commitment, just chill chapters less than 1k each, no plot planning no bigge
> 
> also me: why is every fudgealicous chapter getTING LONGER aNd dEvelopiNG inTO a PLOTFUL STORY?
> 
> also: mery chystler everyone! hope everyone's holidays are filled with joy and good spirits!

When Mirage and Bumblebee reached the location from where the ping was sent out, they found Jazz and half the crew there. Hound looked relieved and gave a small wave to Mirage, who responded back with a small smile. 

“Hey, what’s up everyone?” The yellow minibot jaunty waved, pretending nothing was wrong. 

“Oh, there are you are! We were just chillin’ and talkin’ about something interestin’,” Jazz tilted his helm towards the two approaching bots, an easy smile resting on his faceplates, “But I think we’re about to finish up just now. Maybe if you two arrived here faster, you would have been in the conversation.” 

“Had we known earlier that there was a little party, we would have joined.” Mirage replied back smoothly, not one bit intimidated as he met Jazz’s visor with his own optics. The two stood there for a moment, both smiling before Jazz fully turned toward him with a spin and proceeded to walk over.

“I’m sure you guys can set up another one,” He pat Mirage’s shoulder before brushing by, “And when you do, can y’all be sure to keep it subtle enough? It was slaggin’ hard to ignore you guys the past few months. See ya!”

Jazz left as silently as he came in, even to the point that he made the doors of the Ark seem quiet as he passed through. All the bots in the room vented in relief, except for Bumblebee and Mirage, who were more curious of what has happened. Mirage had a contemplating look, not focused on the bots chattering while Bumblebee went to greet his friends and get info.

“Holy frag, that was intense!”

“Did high command nag him to warn us? He sounded like he was annoyed.”

“Well, we weren’t really trying to hide it… We should have seen this coming, especially when there’s a bragging fest.”

“Yeah Tracks, stop trying to show off all the time, you’re almost as bad as Sunny these days.”

“Oh please, you’re just jealous!” 

“Alright alright, mechs, you’re all handsome so can we all just get along?” Smokescreen complained, arms crossed over his bumper, “Jazz is right, all of us have been pretty obvious these cycles. Getting a warning was inevitable. At least he didn’t outright tell us we couldn’t play anymore.” Grumbles of agreement rose from the crowd. “We’re out of time for today, let’s meet up again to make a plan later, ‘kay?”

Walking over Smokescreen, Bumblebee garnered the attention of the blue and gray praxian and asked, “So what happened exactly? What did we miss?” 

“Well,” Smokescreen started, his hand going underneath his chin to support his helm, “he mostly interrogated everyone about the details of the game, how long everyone’s been playing, and whether or not we were skipping out on duties. Most of us just ‘fessed up to get it over with. Then you guys came in.” 

“That’s it?” The yellow minibot questioned, a single optic ridge curved up. 

“Yeah, it was weird. He didn’t say much. Honestly, it went way better than we thought. I think we all overestimated what he’d do to us. Jazz was basically listening to us talk about certain aspects of the game. Had it been any other situation, it could have been enjoyable.”

“Maybe Prowl asked him to interrogate everyone on surprise to get an idea of what the game is about and how many bots were communicating with Decepticons?” 

“But that’s like, my job? I mean, technically I haven’t been doing it, since I haven’t told Prowl what we’ve been doing. I doubt we have any traitors here though. The only bots I know who are are communicating to the ‘cons are Blaster’s cassettes. But they’ve been only battling Soundwave’s runts.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Mirage interrupted, optics twinkling with amusement, “In fact, it’s very, very simple- What Jazz is doing, I meant.”

“Aw Mirage! Stop keeping the fun secrets away from me,” Bumblebee whined, fist curled up, “You’re always doing this!”

“It’s a great opportunity to practice your skills, Bumblebee. And telling you would ruin the fun.”

“Fine,” the minibot retaliated with a pout, “I’m gonna stay behind with Smokescreen and schedule another meeting with him. Go and find your boyfriend!”

“I will leave regardless with your permission or not, and correction: I do not have a bot of interest.” The spy sniffed, before setting off.

—

The last few cycles have been beyond rough, and Bluestreak has been fully prepared to go to his habsuite and hide for the rest of his life. First Aid and him spent almost a whole orn getting scolded at, and proceeded to get complaints from their fellow gamers about the whole disastrous situation! Okay, maybe Bluestreak was being unnecessarily dramatic, influenced by certain, uh, TV shows and mechs on board. But still! He’s been trying! Trying his best! Really!! 

Flinging himself on his berth, he collapsed with a heavy vent. His moment of pure unadulterated peace was interrupted by a few soft knocks on his habsuite door.

 _‘Please, I already gotten my pride, mental health, and spark beat down so much today! Don’t let it be any trouble!’_ He cried to himself pitifully as he dragged his body off the berth and to the door.

A black and white frame stood in front of his door, stubby audio horns on the owner’s helm had Blue’s processor immediately identifying the bot to be Jazz.

“Heya Blue, just wanted to check up on ya. Mind if I step in?” His voice was light, free from any mischievous humor or sass. His servos were to his sides, and his visor dimmed into a soft light blue. 

“Sure, is there anything I could help you with?” Bluestreak replied, making room for the bot to come in. _‘Or anything you want from me? Just leave me alone ASAP if you want to yell at me!’_ he pleaded internally.

“More like, is there anything I can do to help you? You’ve been mopin’ around far too much over a simple game. There’s bots out ‘ere that been a bit worried about ya.” Endearingly, the older bot tweaked the red crest on the praxian, getting a small laugh out of the bot.

“I wasn’t sparked yesterday Jazz,” Bluestreak complained, but let the other bot continue, “You and Prowl don’t need to get so concerned about me. You don’t go babying the others.” 

“Was I being too obvious? Every bot needs attention, some don’ need that much, while some need a little more.”

“Like you’re one to talk!”

“Hush, I just know what I want and how to get it. I didn’t get to hear much from you earlier, why didn’t you speak up?”

“Earlier? Well I- Hey! Why did you have to scare us like that?” The gray and red bot frowned, “And don’t say it was for fun!”

“Well, it was fun… But I just needed to make a warnin’ large enough to get Ratchet off your afts without getting other bots involved. Primus! Red Alert and Prowl are gonna crash learnin’ about this.” Jazz groaned, palm against his helm. “I can see it happenin’ already!”

“But you didn’t need to! Why…?” Bluestreak whispered, servos clenching around each other.

“Well, have you thought about how many bad fluxes occurred in your recharge recently?” Jazz questioned back, pressing a finger into the bent metal between Bluestreak’s optic ridges as the bot was trying hard to recall, “Stop doin’ that, you’re gonna look like Prowl soon.”

Immediately, Bluestreak smoothed out his expression, “Uh, not that much actually… Are you thinking that the game’s been distracting me from those terrors?”

“Bam, you got it!” Jazz shot him fingerguns, pretending to shoot a bullseye, “At first I was gettin’ a tad bit worried for ma lil’ bot, thinkin’ that seeing those cutscenes n’ stuff from the game was gonna cause you to remember all those things ya been tryin’ to forget. But you became more social and happier. Most bots tended to procrastinate when those kinda games, but it seemed you improved? Not sayin’ you should continue playin’ crazily. I like my little baby Blue spending time with me instead of gamin’! But it seems like its something I can talk to with Prowl if it ever comes up.” 

Grabbing the two-toned bot’s midsection for a hug, Bluestreak’s EM field filled with warmth and joy. “Jazz! You’re the best!” He stuck his face into the junction of Jazz’s neck, engine rumbling happily. 

“Ya know I’ve got a little spot in my spark for ya,” he hugged back, brushing his own field with the bot in his arms, “Now tell me all about this game… Did you get me yet?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only warning: bots being verbally nasty

Maintenance Update 1.6.9

Dear Players,

In order to bring you a better gaming experience, the server will be shut down for maintenance from 1:00 - 4:00 EST on XXX. If it is not completed on time, the opening time will be postponed. For details regarding the update, please check the update announcement which will be posted later, or the game login page after the maintenance.

During the maintenance period, you will not be able to access the game from the server. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. Thank you for your support and understanding!

Important Updates:

1\. NEW feature: Transformers Trading!  
We've been listening to all the numerous suggestions and desires for another method of getting characters for your collections... And now we're happy to introduce a new system!  
Users may now exchange mechanical parts that drop from Exploration, PVP, Event Bosses, Cyber Parade, and Base Raids to create the designated bot! Rarity affects the number of parts needed to create the transformer and also the rates of those parts appearing. The transformers will all start at 2 star grade when created from parts.

Continue to Read…

-

XxRAMxX: NEW UPDATE, MY SPARK HAS NEVER BEEN BRIGHTER THAN EVER

Thundercracker: HOT. time to unsuicide

Thrustin’: top 10 things to fap to 😩🍆💦💦

RE-RE-RE: bruh you nasty 

OhWarp?: LOLOLOL. This update is USELESS! Not like I need anything to trade!

Thing1: stfu, no one asked you to flex asshat

Thing2: dumb bitch, still using the wrong armory for your DPS!

OhWarp?: boohoo, sounds like the midgets are salty!

Thing1: fite me 1v1 out behind the nemesis 

Thing2: you won’t

Thing1: little slut

Thing1: So uh, anyways, we’re looking for extra parts for Buzzwing and Lazerbeak. hmu if ya wanna trade.

Thundercracker: i need parts to complete the Praxian combos. the ONE event I enjoyed just had to land on the same time as our last battle... what a waste. 

Kerplop!: Looking for CC/Accelerator parts, shoot me a ping.

XxRamxX: yeah so uh anyone have spare parts for seekers? I didn’t do so great on the last event.

OhWarp?: I’ll tear you fucking runts apart!

XxRamxX: I used like, i dunno, 100 freakin’ recruit pulls and I didn’t get a single seeker? it’s a fuckin’ winged-transformer event?? I got so many duplicates I DON’T NEED

Thundercracker: Mood

Thrustin’: FAACTS

GreedyHoe: if you guys are looking for cash to recruit more, i’ll be happy to exchange rations and credits for human currency, send me a dm for the ratios! 

GreedyHoe: who tf changed my username again? assholes.

_Swindle’s (GreedyHoes) nickname has been changed to Swindle_

RE-RE-RE: create a better fukkin’ nickname then, we already have ‘Cracker as our dry ass thot

_Swindle’s (Swindle) nickname has been changed to Susan by Reflector (RE-RE-RE)_

Susan: OK, rude.

XxRamxX: LMAOOOOOOOOO 10/10 👌

_Thundercracker’s (Thundercracker) nickname has been changed to HOT DADDY by Reflector (RE-RE-RE)_

HOT DADDY: what the fuck

RE-RE-RE: YOU GUYS ARE SO FUCKING BASIC I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE

HOT DADDY: i didn’t do shit to you, wtffff

HOT DADDY: wait why can’t i change my name back

_Soundwave (Group Creator) has changed permissions._

_Skywarp’s (OhWarp?) nickname has been changed to DumbBitch by Soundwave_

DumbBitch: WHEN WAS SOUNDWAVE IN THIS CHAT

RE-RE-RE: HOLY SHIT 

RE-RE-RE: WAS SOUNDWAVE WATCHING US ALL THIS TIME

RE-RE-RE: I THOUGHT @Thing1 MADE THE CHAT WHAT

DumbBitch: WHY TF U CHANGE MY NAME

DumbBitch: OH FUCK YOU @Thing1 yOU TATTLING COWARD

Thing1: SUCK SPIKE

Thing1: oh yeah @RE-RE-RE boss is the one who made the chat, I just added everyone in lmao

Soundwave: Starscream, requested access. Deploying.

HOT DADDY: don’t deploy 

HOT DADDY: please

Thing2: WAIT BOSS WHY

Thing2: THIS IS BETRAYAL 

Susan: ugh

Thurstin’: HAVE MERCY

RE-RE-RE: TIME TO RETREAT 🚨🚨

DumbBitch: FUCK NO

 _Starscream has been added to the group chat “CON-VERSATION” by Soundwave_  
Starscream: 

Starscream: Why is the chat empty?

DumbBitch: hello?

Thing2: cuz you joined late loser

Starscream: YOU!

Starscream: WHO ARE YOU ALL??

Starscream: JACKASSES!

Starscream: WHY DIDN’T YOU INVITE ME EARLIER?!!! 

HOT DADDY: i think you already know the answer to that question

Starscream: IDENTIFY YOURSELF HOT DADDY

Susan: I’M WEAK

Susan: THIS FREE CONTENT IS THE BEST

Starcream: WHAT IS GOING ON? SOUNDWAVE EXPLAIN!!

Thing2: NEVERMIND THIS IS GREAT

Thing1: i’M CHOKING

HOT DADDY: this is cursed af

XxRamxX: HSGDISUOJFOSJDBSJDN

RE-RE-RE: MY WIG,,, HAS BEEN SNATCHED!!

Hooker: Can we make a new chat for transactions? And no, not money, Swindle, I mean for trading parts.

Hooker: I’m not interested in navigating all this stupid side conversations just to see who has what. 

Hooker: @Soundwave 

_Starscream’s (Starscream) nickname has been changed to DORITO BIRD by Rumble (Thing1)_

Thing1: THANKS DAD FOR ADMIN PERMISSIONS 

Hooker: …I regret reading the backlog. 

Hooker: You are all muted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i suck at making usernames so uh, if you guys have better ideas, just hit me up in the comments 
> 
> have fun guessing who's who! ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

Red Alert is a very nice bot. His cherry red audio horns, simple and clean colors, and lamborghini alt mode which was as suitable as making Optimus Prime a mini cooper, was actually appealing and easy on the eyes. Unfortunately, Primus is not fair, and bestowed him the blessing of constant crippling paranoia. Rarely was there a moment where Red Alert was in complete peace and happiness. There was always this frazzled look in his optics, always walking quickly as if he had something important to do (or escape from) even on his good days.

His bad days would include of him hiding in his office, constantly checking the locks on the doors, drawers, looking for signs of tampering or installed bombs. Then, proceed to reboot and check his anti-virus systems on the ship surveillance and data archives. Finally, he’ll go out of his office with his optics wide open, stumbling the halls to check the vents for Soundwave’s critters, rechecking that the security cameras haven’t been altered, scour ANY corner of the ship for non-existent horrors, and falsely warn anyone who comes his way of some kind of unseen enemy. 

Luckily for the everyone, there was one sole bot on the ship that could actually tolerate Red Alert as a companion. In fact, Inferno was considered one of the most patient members of the crew, close behind Prowl in rank. Personally, Inferno did not understand how “being friends with Red Alert” equated to patience. He did not like waiting behind others in battle, and was always itching to get out and beat up some ‘cons. His personal motto was more of, “fight fire with fire.”

He thought Red Alert was just a really neat bot, besides all his weird idiosyncrasies, like the little bot’s mighty need to check the berth and closets of their habsuite every time he entered their own room. 

Red Alert had fairly normal hobbies and interests like everyone else. Like watching holodramas, playing cards, reading novels. Horror movies have been banned for several centuries, due to two certain twins attempting to recreate scenes in the Ark, scaring Red Alert’s processors out of his helm. The security director bunkered in the weaponry block for several orns, hiding in the rooms and vents, shooting everything and anything that moved. Him hiding and shooting at things randomly was something everyone was used to. But with infinite weaponry? The whole ship was on lockdown in space. It took intensive amounts of patience, emotional support, and all sorts of persuasion to get the hapless bot to crawl out.

That was one of the bad times. 

Luckily, Inferno has many millenniums of experience! 

But also was very busy. Hence, why there was chaos again.

Last month he had been quite busy being deployed in several areas putting out fires ranging from cities, forests, and factories. The Decepticons did not hold back when doing environmental damage, and it was the Autobot doctrine to protect those who are in need. It was incredibly fun and exhilarating to be out on the field doing his magic, interacting with several humans in the field and receiving thanks for his services. Yet, he missed Red Alert. The times Inferno was back in the Ark was to report, recharge, and consume fuel. It pained his spark whenever he couldn’t catch a glance of little audio horns in the crowd of Autobots in his limited time on the Ark.

He knew something was up when the lights to their shared habsuite did not turn on automatically upon his entrance. 

“Uh, Red Alert? It’s me, Inferno. You doing alright?” Inferno slowly whispered, voice hushed as though he was trying to draw out a mecha animal. 

“Inferno?” Red Alert’s voice warbled as though he was confused, before he cried out clearly, “Quick! Close the door!”

Almost instantaneously, Inferno slapped the manual commands to shut the door, shrouding the room in complete darkness. 

“Can I turn on the lights?” He asked tentatively, trying to not move in fear that Red Alert would jump into the ceiling from all the nerves building up. He received a small whimper in return, and so Primus said, let there be light.

Their habsuite was bathed in light, and his optics landed on the security director/friend/maybe-something-more, who was in the opposite corner of the room with… some really weird plastic device on his head? Upon seeing the familiar fire truck, the red and white launched over to him.

“Oh Inferno! Are you alright? Why are there so many scratches on you? Are they infected? Was it the decepticons? Did they invade the Ark? Oh I knew it! Oh Primus we have to let Optimus know! We have to get out of here!”

Inferno chuckled, plating warm from amusement and joy that the worried bot doted on him with so much care. He surveyed the room for any weapons or traps as the smaller bot checked him over for other wounds or “spy devices.” 

“What’s up with the new hat? Are these part of some new protective gear?” The fire truck poked at the circular plastic-looking thing over the other bot’s helm. It was light blue, and had a soft texture.

“It’s gear against brainwashing! I had Wheeljack load this up with signal blockers and other anti-transmitters! I tried getting everyone else to use them, but they refused! Everyone’s getting controlled by some kind of new game by the decepticons! Here, take one!”

“Oh really?” Inferno willingly took the soft item, turning it over in his servos to get a better look at it before sliding it awkwardly over his own helm. Upon closer inspection, it looked and felt like putting a kiddie pool on his helm.

“I’ve never seen anything like it before! I think everyone’s going to turn against the Prime! They’ve been talking about wanting to get Decepticon members over to their teams, and even talking about making combination attacks with them!”

“I didn’t know you’ve been hanging out with Cliffjumper while I was away.”

“NO. This is real Inferno! I’m telling you! We’ve in big trouble! This game is controlling everyone! We need to stop it!”

Inferno turned to Red Alert, and looked straight into the other’s optics, “Do I look brainwashed to you?”

“No? I gave you my special anti-brainwashing device. You’re fine.” The head of security looked back at him with a confused expression.

“Well, I too, am playing the same game as everyone else.” He brought out his console from his subspace.

Red Alert shuttered his optics, starting at Inferno, then to the device, and finally back to Inferno. He let out a high-pitch shout.

“INFERNO! NOT YOU TOO!”

“Red, look, I’m not brainwashed-“

“THE DECEPTICONS TOOK INFERNO, WHYYYYY” Emergency lights flickered on and off on the bot’s head, blinding Inferno.

“Red, hold my hands, look at me”

“THEY’RE AFTER ALL OF US, NO ONE IS GOING TO BE SPARED”

“Red…”

“I LOVED HIM WITH ALL MY SPARK, OH PRIMUS!” The hysterical bot wailed, throwing his body away from Inferno’s and resorted to crying into the tiles.

“Red, just list- what?” Inferno hauled Red Alert back into his arms, and shook him. They looked at each other, both confused at what just came out of their mouths. 

“what?” 

“I’m asking you, what did you say?”

“I said I loved Inferno with all my spark, but now he’s gone! And you’ve replaced him!” A finger jabbed into Inferno’s faceplate accusingly.

“But I am Inferno?”

“NO! Inferno wouldn’t go down to decepticon’s brainwashing!”

“…”

Inferno looked down to the console which fell to the ground from the mess that occurred. Pressing a pede down on it, he put pressure onto the toy, causing the screen to crack, and finally the device to break.

“There, will you believe me now?” He asked softly, placing his own forehelm onto Red Alert’s. The smaller bot looked at him with shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Emergency lights dying down in frequency, but still letting out soft hues of blue occasionally.

“So uh, I wanna let you know that I like you too. With all my spark.”

Red Alert’s helm heated up from underneath Inferno. “Truly and honestly?” He mumbled, turning his own faceplate away, but maintained contact.

“Yeah, no brainwashing influence included.” Inferno teased, holding the smaller bot in his arms. 

“Are… Are you sure?” Red Alert looked tired and woozy from his outburst. He probably didn’t refuel in a long time while in his panicked state. “Wow, I didn’t we would escalate this far.”

“Yup. How about this: Let’s go to the rec room and get some fuel. I’m sure we can talk more ‘bout this later after you get refueled. Alright?”

“Maybe… after we get some recharge?”

“Alright, recharge first and then refuel.”

\--

In the next cycle an assortment of flowers was sent to their front step of the habsuite. Attached was a card sending best wishes and congratulations to their new relationship. The lack of signature sent Red Alert to another panic again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story was supposed to be pure hysteria of crack but instead it's fluffy and i cannot believe myself that I've done this


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new years everyone! sorry for the late updates these days... I've been busy drawing lmao

“Why was I even on fire-fighting duty this time? This is gonna mess up my paintjob so bad,” Tracks complained, constantly looking over his plating to check the amount of scratches he got from all the work he’s been doing. “Seriously? Just because I got a flight mode doesn’t mean I got to be abused like this!”

“Unfortunately, the aerialbots and other flight modes are busy fighting the decepticons on another battlefront. We’re the clean up crew this time…” Inferno replied, still in his altmode busy spraying the last of the flames with water. “I really wanted to go with them… damn!”

“Oh Inferno, control yourself! No one wants to see you and Red Alert being lovey-dovey on the battlefield! Blerg!” Tracks pretended puked, before transforming into his sleek sports car alt. “Well, since we’re done here, I’ll be heading back first. Blaster’s got a new set up to connect to teletron. In two hours live duel is starting and I need to get my polish fixed up before it starts!” 

Tracks engine reeved before the vain bot took off, leaving behind his comrades in a hurry.

“Man, Tracks is always in a hurry when it comes to his looks, but is slow as slag when it comes to actual heavy duty work.” Hoist grumbled and waved away the smoke and dust kicked up from the other bot. “ ‘specially with him playing that game just to get only his own character… yikes! Have some shame!”

Inferno shrugged, although it went unseen by Hoist as the firetruck was in his altmode. “Tracks does what Tracks does. As long as it ain’t messin’ with the objectives, it’s not problem to me. Plus, I am interested in what Blaster’s doing back at base.”

“Oh yeah, you lost your account right? Man, that’s rough buddy.” Hoist commented, his field lingering with sympathy. 

“Haha yeah, but it was worth it in the end.”

“Mm, that’s understandable.”

\--

“Oh slag, Blaster, this is a pretty good set up,” Smokescreen praised, one of the many autobots who crowded around the teletron, watching the enlarged screen of Rewind’s console in a live duel. He stood a little closer to the back, next to Blaster who was admiring his work and watching his cassettes play with a soft glow in his optics. “This is almost as good as watchin’ a live basketball game!” 

“Thanks bud, it took a while setting up this, especially on a day when Jazz ‘n the other higher ups busy getting ready for the meeting. Well, I gotta go soon. Don’t want anyone to be suspicious of me!” Blaster waved before he turned and left. The crowd was busy focusing on the twin cassettes in the front, asking questions and commentating on the battles. The two basked in all the attention, looking very smug and pleased. 

“Shucks, I didn’t know normal bots could be used like that… That’s a good team design…”

“Ooooh! Rewind’s ranked in the top 100? Not bad at all!” 

“Of course!” Rewind boasted proudly, armor plating puffing out, “Eject and I are the best cybertronian players on this server!”

“You said it, Rewind! We’ve been on a really good KO streak! Like, a really big one! What was the number again?” Eject whooped, beaming as he bragged about the two’s accomplishments.

“I think it this one is gonna be 68.” Rewind replied, focused on his next move.

“Yeah, 68! Isn’t that great?”

“I think the cassettes are going to become like Tracks and Sunny soon if they keep it up,” Bluestreaker whispered over to Smokescreen, giggling at Eject verbally sparring with another bot. “I’ve never seen them be this proud before.”

“I already bet they’re not gonna make it to top 50, Blue. They’re good, but not that good.” The blue and yellow bot replied back quietly with a small smirk. 

“Aw, you’re so mean Smokey! Come on, they may be able to do it!” 

“Nah, I’ve been on too many bets to know that ain’t possible. Oh? Seems like the crowd’s gone quiet.”

On the screen showed a flash of two icons on opposite sides, red and purple flames clashing in the background. On one end was Rewind’s icon of his and Eject’s faceplates, on the other was a standard starter’s icon, a grey blob shaped like an ordinary cybertronian. The username was a simple and tacky, “Coolsville.” 

“OH SHIT-“

“HOLY CRAP WHAT IS YOUR LUCK!”

“Oh sweet primus on a truck,” Rewind moaned, console loose in his servoes. “There goes our KO streak.”

“What’s going on?” Bluestreak whisper-shouted as the autobots around him were cheering like it was a half-vorn celebration. 

“That,” Smokescreen drawled, “It the number 1 ranked dueler on the global server. Seems like the twins got some awful luck.”

“We were just gonna get our 69 killstreak!” Eject whined, collapsing next to his twin before venting out heavily.

“Yeah yeah, just hurry up and let’s see what his line up’s like! We gotta study this guy and get some info!” Some bot shouted, and received many grunts and cheers of agreement.

“Alright, alright, jerks!” Rewind muttered, totally not salty about the lack of attention and sympathy towards them.

Everyone’s fields were lingering with anticipation and excitement as Rewind took his sweet aft time to set up his team before clicking ready. 

“Oh my god, he’s usin’ 2 Skywarps?”

“No, my question it why is he using Jazz as a secondary DPS?”

So many questions were raised at the very weird team set up in front of them. Worse, “Coolsville” was sending taunt stickers of Optimus saying, “Come at me!” and other rude emojis.

“Alright jackass, you’re gonna get handed by us. Toxic gaming is prohibited in this autobot household!” 

\--

“OK, so maybe we did underestimate him,” Rewind conceded when, in fact, they got their asses absolutely whooped.

“Not gonna lie, it feels bad to get beaten by a guy named like that. And then get heckled by everyone.” Ejected complained as he hopped after his brother into Blaster’s host compartment.

“I feel like you guys aren’t tell me the whole story,” Blaster commented. He was fairly amused when he found the two outside of the commander office with sour expressions. 

“You’re supposed to be on our side, Blaster!” Rewind sent a wave of irritation towards Blaster’s end of the bond. It felt more like a pout but in the form of wavelengths.

“God, that was so tacky anyways. Like, who keeps their icon as blank starter slate? It’s probably some freaky dude like, Soundwave.”

“What’s this guy’s name anyway?

“It was something… something like Cools? Cools…”

“Coolsville, I think.”

“Ugh, thinking about this makes me mad. Got our afts embarrassed so much today! Good night!” Eject griped, ending the conversation then and there. Rewind huffed as well, before settling down and preparing for recharge.

“Coolsville,” Blaster murmured, optics lowering down as he could feel the grip of recharge taking him down, “that name… sounds… familiar…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip no 69 streak feels bad


	9. Chapter 9

Starscream cackled to himself as he retrieved his spoils of war from his subspace. A small scuffle over one of the nuclear power plants in the vast dry wastleland of Nevada earned the seeker a little prisoner of war. With Megatron temporarily satisfied and not on his back for the next few orns. The way Megatron hounded him the last few earth weeks was like his exhaust pipes were getting inspected every since second! It wasn’t like he was planning anything remotely vicious these days, not that he was going to stop completely any time soon. He was merely taking a small hiatus… Yes, a small break for other intellectual pursuits worthy of his attention! 

Wings flicking back, pleased once again of his recent success, as he turned on the console. He would have never thought that the small coding courses he took back in the academy would be used for an endeavor like this. Hacking his way through the passcodes, Starcream activated the mobile game app. Quickly, he added himself as a “friend” to the account he snatched and proceeded to trade all the good parts and materials to his own account. There were so many stored parts on this account! What a nice find! Maybe he could finally get enough parts to summon himself at this rate! Snickering all along the way, he self praised himself at his fantastic cunning. 

“Ha, what a poor sucker, losing all his progress like this. Luckily, his contributions will be used to serve the almighty Starscream!” He smirked, hopping onto his berth, wings spread out behind him and perking up in the air with delight. Meshes underneath his chin and chestplates, he relaxed. 

“Now, where is the S category? S.. S… No that’s a M…” The seeker muttered under his breath as he squinted his optics, “I swear to Primus I saw I got enough parts to get myself. There it is!” Tapping onto the black shadowy form of a seeker, the screen changed the background to a cutscene. Starscream preened at the amount of detail done, as should be the case! Those nice red and white wings, sleek and sharp, cutting the water vapor of Earth’s atmosphere so cleanly… And yes… That gloriously handsome, white faceplate and gentle smil-

“WAIT A SECOND. WHAT IS THIS BLASPHEMY?” Starscream screeched, optics popped open as he realized that in fact, it was not himself he summoned…

It was Skyfire!

“nonONONONO. This can’t be happening! Argh!” He threw the device on his berth in a huff, and proceeded to roll in frustration on the berth. He must have mistaken the name and position earlier! Checking again, it seemed that Starscream’s own character was a block away from Skyfire’s! Starcream screamed into his pillows, biting down furiously while his wings went up and down in a frenzy. 

“You’ve always, always disappointed me!” He hissed, pointing accusingly with such anger. If there were bystanders nearby, they might have thought the console killed his dog or something to evoke that kind of rage and anger. Skyfire’s soft expression stared back at the decepticon. The shuttle jet’s smile was ever so warm, small crevices dipped into his clear white faceplate near the edges of his lips. It was always an imperfection that the jet was shy about, that Starscream thought was perfectly fine. Seeing that smile again, it reminded him of some term those fleshy bags of meat used that came up one time when Soundwave’s rats watched TV shows on the Nemesis screens. Was it something like dim? Dimples?

Upon further inspection, Starscream barked in laughter, “Ha! They got his optics wrong! He’s got single creases, not double! He’s only got double when he doesn’t recharge! Stupid pitful humans! Can’t do a single thing right!”

His laugher slowly died down the longer he stared at the screen. For a moment, he felt light in spark, as if someone took off twenty triple-chargers off his back that he didn’t know he had. For a moment, he remembered something long ago, deep in his processor that he hadn’t thought of in several million years.

And it was only in a moment when he slammed that springy, bouncy and bright feeling down into the depths of his spark, somewhere dark where it would be forgotten, once again. 

“How foolish I am, to think, I could hope once more.” Starscream whispered bitterly, turning the console, Skyfire, facedown where he couldn’t see that face anymore. It reminded him of too many things that he tried to throw away along with the disturbing feeling of being torn apart internally, like acid rain and trash sewage of the underlayer of Cybertron blending in his tanks. 

“To think, everything was your fault, when it was always mine.”

-

“Skyfire, what in the pit are you doing?” Starscream questioned, his left wing tilting to the side, making room as the owner squeezed onto the park bench next to the larger bot. In front of them was a small wire table, where Skyfire rested his arms on. “Usually you don’t prefer sights like these, especially in the dark cycle. What’s new?” 

The two were squeezed onto a small bench, usually meant for seekers, as it was Vos’ famous park, featuring multiple pieces of art in different mediums. Multiple towering crystals pierced the skylines, illuminating the park, a perfect statement to exemplify the richness of Vos. The light hues from the crystals reflected off Skyfire’s glass panels, with little shimmers of rainbows, making Starscream snort.

“Well, I’m just sitting here.”

“Duh? I didn’t ask you to say the obvious! You know what I meant!”

“Maybe I’m just enjoying the view,” his fellow scientist quirked a smile towards his smaller companion, amused at the lack of patience Starscream had.

“If the view is me, you’re welcome to keep staring.” Starscream teased back, running a hand over his nosecone, “You’re lucky I don’t charge you.”

“If you did, I would pay willingly.” His optics were so bright, filled with sincerity. 

“I know. That’s why I don’t.” The seeker replied softly, leaning into the nook between Skyfire’s jawline and shoulder, wings lightly bumping into Skyfire’s, causing both to feel ticklish for a moment before the sensation faded.

“I brought some energon for us,” his companion started, bringing couple of glasses before placing them down onto the table in front of him. 

“Huh? You should have told me you were going to! I just refueled,” Starscream complained, flicking Skyfire’s audio lightly, “You’re going to have to drink alone.”

“It’s not that kind of energon, Star,” Skyfire huffed, pretending to be indignant while they both knew he was enjoying this. He took out a strange looking glass out, filled with a what looked like a deep violet fluid. The glass had intricate geometric patterns, giving it a polygonal appearance.

“Is this some kind of fancy high grade?” Starscream squinted, inspecting the fluid as Skyfire went to pour the energon into the two glasses. When he finished, Starscream took the glass in his hand and brought it close to his nose. “Hm, looks like high grade, but isn’t. What is this? Are you experimenting something? I thought you loved me!” He joked, before quieting down at his friend’s change of expression.

“Starscream.” Skyfire’s face schooled to a somewhat serious expression, it would have been if it wasn’t for his lower lip trembling just slightly.

“Skyfire…?” Starscream’s voice faded off, anticipation and anxiety lingering in his field while his wings stiffened up.

“Vos was not kind to me, Starscream,” Skyfire confessed, optics lowered, “I did not have the elegant, smooth sharps and curves that Vosians had. Worse, I did not completely conform to the culture. I did not have the sensory wings to understand social cues, sounds and other forms of communication known to winged cybertronians. I felt alienated, hollow, and alone. It was a difficult struggle, almost as if I was disabled upon coming here to do my post studies. Never did I feel like such a hapless, incompetent bot in my entire life. There was so much apathy towards me. No one seemed to cared for my existence beyond cooperation in the lab. But you were different.” He took a moment to caress Starscream’s cheek. Starscream unconsciously brought his own free hand to cup Skyfire’s.

“First, I thought you were just a bully. You kept biting at my pedes. Haha, don’t give me that look, we both know it wasn’t literally. At first I thought it was jealously, or maybe you just liked annoying people. But… It made me feel a little better. You always took time to give me constructive criticism on thesis and projects. You paid attention to the times where I had my good days, and my bad days, even if you have an awful way of showing it.”

“OK, that one time where you had your audio sensors disabled did not count! I seriously thought you were impaired by some sort of experiment in the lab and manually rebooting you was the only option! It’s always important to have all your senses properly functioning in a lab setting!” Starscream frowned, not understanding why Skyfire was suddenly going off about his not so brilliant moments.

“I thought it was cute. But perhaps we’re going off topic.” Skyfire chuckled, “Starscream, we’re living in one of the most peaceful eras of Cybertron, one where no one would have to worry in fear if they would survive the next day, eager to find someone to be with to have closure. We have long, very long lifespans to decide our paths, and these paths can change overtime. Most would want to wait several vorns, and hold off finding a special someone, or declare another as their conjunx. I know myself, and I know I could do the same. But…” He hesitated, attempting to slip his hand out from under Starscream’s, before it was pulled back to its original place on the seeker’s heated cheekplate.

“Skyfire… just say it…” Starscream almost pleaded, optics almost shining with some sort of fluid. 

“Starscream, I may not be as talented as you, nor as beautiful or wonderfully brilliant. I am not strong in a physical sense to protect you, aesthetically pleasing towards your culture, or be wealthy to support you and give you a life of luxury. I want to share with you, with what little I have… what’s mine, so that it could be yours.” The jet’s small smile slowly growing larger and larger with joy and hope.

“You don’t need to say anything more! Say no more! No more!” Starscream spilled, optical fluid slowly dripping down his face. His field growing more and more excited, molding with Skyfire’s.  


“Would you bestow on me the gift of being able to have you as mine and my being as your own?”

“Oh Skyfire, yes!”

Taking the glass of energon that was left on the table, Skyfire entwined his arm holding the glass with Starscream’s. His glass facing Starscream’s lips while the other’s glass faced his.  


“With this glass, symbolizing all my love and abilities, I give to you, so that what is mine becomes just as much as yours.” Skyfire tilted his glass onto Starscream’s lips.

“And this glass, representing all my affections and dreams, will be yours as much as it is mine.” Starscream finished, lips spread wide into a bright smile on the edge of the cube upon his lips, while leaning forward to put his glass against Skyfire’s. Together, they sipped from each other’s drinks, arms linked while they cradled each other in their arms and cherished the new united promise made to each other. 

The crystals around them seemed to glow a bit brighter. 

-

"You stupid bumpkin, when did you learn how to talk like that?"

"I always had the ability to talk like that."

"Ugh. And you really need to stop being so humble like that. It makes me upset."

"Why so?"

"Because I am not engaged to a wimp that can't be proud of himself! I only settle for the best of the best! So my engaged is just as amazing as me!" 

"Starscream..."

"What?"

"You're adorable. I love you."

"w-WHAT? You can't just drop that on me like that!"

"I love you."

"Stop saying it with that face! You're making me-"

"Making you what?"

"..."

"Flustered? Loved? Happy?"

"No. No talking. I'm angry. Get down here and give me a kiss already!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is very easy to go with the interpretation of starscream as literal dumpster fire screamy material, especially with the memes I see everywhere. I have to admit it is a central part of his character lol. He would not be Starscream without that! 
> 
> But I believe he has qualities that could be developed further, and be more than just 2D screaming. I like to think that theres a bit of wholesomeness in this dorito screeching bird. ^_^ anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk!
> 
> I am going to try to do more in-depth analysis on the "popular" characters soon, as I have been neglecting them to get all the side characters some spotlight. but for now... next issue... Skyfire! our soft giant UwU


End file.
